Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Eventually, Xander found a spot he must have felt was safely distanced from land and dropped the anchor. Only then did he doff his shirt, unfold a towel, and stretch out on the back bench seat, perpendicular to me. For a while, we just lay there like two turtles on a log in the sunshine. I breathed in—sunscreen, sea air, maybe a whiff of the woods that lined the shore. The call of the seagulls above us mingled with the soft lap of the water against the hull, and the boat rocked gently on the waves. It was blissfully peaceful, and my heart was happy. This was how I’d imagined feeling on my vacation.
I just hadn’t imagined company.
My heels were propped up on the back bench next to Xander’s. I picked up my head and studied our feet. It made me chuckle—Xander’s were so huge compared to mine, his toes long, his ankles sturdy. His legs were hairy, and my gaze wandered up toward his muscular thighs, causing a little involuntary contraction at my core.
I nudged him with my foot. “Hey.”
“What?” He sat up immediately. “Everything okay? You see something?”
“No,” I said, laughing. “I was just thinking how nice this is. And I wanted to thank you for taking me out on the water. I know it makes you nervous to be out and about with me.”
He sat all the way up and moved to one side of the bench. “Come sit with me.” I moved to the bench, and he reached down and took me by the back of the calves, swinging my feet into his lap. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good,” I said. I could look at his body in the sun for hours. His skin kissed by gold, the ink gleaming, the rays glinting off the water behind him.
“So when is the awards ceremony you’ll sing at?”
“It’s in about two and a half weeks. Thursday, the twenty-first.” Over breakfast, I’d told him that I’d agreed to sing with Duke on the condition that I would be introduced as Kelly Jo Sullivan.
“The night before Buckley’s Pub will open—I hope.”
“I wish I could be in two places at once,” I said.
“Me too.” His hand bracketed my ankle, his thumb rubbing the tendons of my heel.
“I’m expecting an argument with my label on the name thing.”
“Fuck them.”
I laughed. “I can’t fuck them, but I’m going to fight for it.”
“Good.” He looked at me. “This is a big event?”
“Huge.”
“And where is it held?”
“It’s at the Milton Auditorium. Most famous stage in country music.”
“That’s a theater?”
“Yeah, but it’s also got a museum, offices, and conference rooms on the upper floors. A lot of agents and publicists and even singers keep offices there.”
“Does it have good security?”
“It will that night, I’m sure.”
“What about you personally? What will you do?”
I sighed. “I guess I’ll have to hire someone new. Oh—I forgot to tell you this. I spoke with Wags, my manager, this morning, and he said one of the bodyguards from the tour who was fired is trying to get money out of me.”
His hand tightened around my ankle. “What?”
“He claims he was wrongfully terminated and in exchange for ten grand will provide the names of the guys who were really at fault.”
“Fuck that guy. He knew what was happening and didn’t say anything?”
“I guess. Want to hear the funny part? The guy’s name is James Bond.”
Xander didn’t laugh. “He lives in Nashville?”
“I assume so.”
He placed one wide hand over the tops of both my feet. “I hate that you’re going back there without protection in place. Tell me you have cameras at your house.”
“I do.” I hesitated. “I think they work.”
Xander groaned. “You don’t know for sure?”
“Well, I never looked! I had people for that. Plus, I bought a house in this ritzy gated community, so I assumed it was safe.”
His mouth assumed that stubborn shape again. “I’m going back with you.”
“What?”
“When it’s time, I’ll go back with you. I’m going to do a security assessment, make sure those cameras are functioning, check out this gated community, and hire a new bodyguard for you.”
“Xander, you don’t have to do that.” My heart was beating wildly in my chest.
“I want to.”
“But how long will that take?”
“Depends. A few days, at least. Maybe a week.”
“What about the bar?”
“I’ll figure it out. But I need to make sure you’re safe.”
Moved that he cared so much, he’d follow me back to Nashville and do all those things when he had his own business to worry about, I felt my throat tighten. Pulling my feet from his lap, I got to my knees and swung one leg over him, straddling his lap. I placed my hands on his bronzed, sun-warmed shoulders and pressed my lips to his. “Thank you.”
“It’s not a big deal. Your brother would want it that way.”